


Holy Trinity

by Katsitting (Nekositting)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Voldemort Wins, Dark Ginny Weasley, Dubious Consent, F/M, Freeform, Harry-centric, M/M, Mindfuck, Not Beta Read, Not Canon Compliant - Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Triad - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-13
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2019-05-06 06:24:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14635929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nekositting/pseuds/Katsitting
Summary: Do you remember me now?Harry didn’t know where the voice came from. It was in his head, in his skin, in his ears, in his mouth. Everywhere and nowhere, Harry was crushed by the weight of her tongue on his brain.My mouth, don’t you remember it, Harry?“N-no.”My voice, don’t you remember it, Harry?”“What do you want!?” He trembled, voice cracking when she didn’t stop biting, didn’t stop chewing and tearing at his neck like a vicious beast devoured its prey. There was nothing slow and sweet about the laugh that erupted in his mind in response to his question.You. I’ve only ever wanted you.





	Holy Trinity

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Acnara](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Acnara/gifts).



> This is a bit of wild experiment. I know, I _know_ a Ginny/Tom/Harry triad? What am I thinking, right? But this had to be done. This idea was killing me.
> 
> I hope you like this random gift, pepa <3
> 
> Leave comments if you enjoyed!

_ Harry. _

Her voice was soothing, familiar. A promise, a susurration, woven into a mosaic of noise. The shadows surrounding him were nothing to the power of this voice. 

Harry drank the voice in, chasing after the sound like a cold heart sought out the first rays of the morning sun. 

_ Harry _ .

She was everything and anything. 

It was a current, a rush of warm blood that lapped against his skin, smeared against his face. Like fine strands of hair, they curled around him. They drowned him, lit his skin aflame when the ends tickled his chest, dipped low over his belly, and lower still until a slick heat concentrated between his trembling thighs.

That was always how the dream manifested. Lost in the shadows with the promise of something indescribable hanging in the air and a girl.

A girl with a soft, mesmeric voice. A girl with shining brown eyes. A girl with red hair that slithered against his flesh when she sang to him. Promises weaved through the notes falling away from her tongue, as if she were speaking only to him.

And perhaps, she was.

It was just them. They were always alone. 

Nothing but the darkened shadows of this abyss. The draw of the nothingness pulling and tugging him away from the waking realm and into one of dreams.

_ Harry. _

His toes curled when warm lips brushed against his ear, the slick heat between his thighs growing more insistent the longer it latched onto his consciousness. 

There was always something tugging at the back of his mind. A nagging thought, an itch that he couldn’t quite scratch even when his fingers  _ bled  _ from biting into his own skin. 

What was he forgetting? There was something there. He knew it, he always knew. Had always known, there was a reason she was  _ so  _ familiar. 

But where had he seen her before? Where had he heard her voice?

_ Don’t you know, Harry? _

She murmured, hot tongue sliding along his ear before white teeth caught his earlobe. 

_ Don’t you remember? _

He didn’t. His mouth opened to tell her just that, but the girl didn’t give him the chance to speak. Almost as if she’d sensed what he’d intended to say. Maybe, she was reading his mind—slithering along his thoughts as a serpent’s coil wound around trees...anything was possible.

Fingers wove through the strands of his hair and tugged his head back sharply, forcing her mouth closer to his neck, the tip of what he’d imagined was her nose brushing along his carotid artery.

“I’ll make you remember.”

Harry gasped when teeth bit into his neck, a sharp pain spreading from his neck to his elbow. He tried to move away, to fight the pain, but his body refused to move. It was still. He was no more than dead weight, rendered weak by the groove of her teeth.

He was...at her mercy.

“T-that hurts,” Harry complained through clenched teeth, but his words went unheard. Lost to the abyss just as he was. No more than a passing thought in a chaotic mind, there was no hope for him to make sense of what was happening at all.

“S-stop.” 

He didn’t know why he thought she would listen. Her teeth clenched, and each sharpened corner of her teeth were like small razor blades on a pale wrist. It cut him, gnashing along his flesh until tears formed on the corners of his eyes, until he stopped begging her to stop and instead chewed on the inside of his cheek to bear through the pain. 

Then, wetness streamed down his neck and shoulder blade, past his chest and lower back. An endless river that knew no end. 

_ Do you remember me now? _

Harry didn’t know where the voice came from. It was in his head, in his skin, in his ears, in his mouth. Everywhere and nowhere, Harry was crushed by the weight of her tongue on his brain.

_ My mouth, don’t you remember it, Harry? _

“N-no.”

_ My voice, don’t you remember it, Harry?” _

“What do you want!?” He trembled, voice cracking when she didn’t stop biting, didn’t stop chewing and  _ tearing  _ at his neck like a vicious beast devoured its prey. There was nothing slow and sweet about the laugh that erupted in his mind in response to his question.

_ You. I’ve only ever wanted you. _

Dread curled around his neck like a noose on a dead man's throat. 

None of it made sense. None of  _ this  _ made any bloody sense. This was no dream, but a nightmare. A terrible, terrible thing that needed to end. The shadows, the nothing, the red, and the laughter. All of it. He wanted it to  _ end _ , for it all to make sense again.

_ It’s all we’ve ever wanted. It’s all  _ **_he’s_ ** _ ever wanted.  _

Harry’s vision spun when something tugged at his prick, that slick heat coming alive to twist his stomach into knots. It enveloped him, swallowed him up until his knees shook.

_ All he does is give you pleasure when you sleep. My master is so kind. _

A moan tumbled from Harry’s lips when that tight warmth curled around his shaft, soft and smooth. It wrapped around him like a vice, tugged him deeper into that cavern against his will. It made his toes curl, made his heart race.

Then, the girl’s chewing ceased, allowing Harry at that moment to wallow in the strange pleasure staining the darkness a vibrant pink. 

“What is—”

_ Shh, let yourself feel. Quiet your mind. _

Harry found himself giving into the voice, the soft whisper in his mind slithering along his senses like a mist. He hardly noticed when the shadows between his thighs began to recede. Overcome by the pleasure, watching but unable to follow the way the darkness slowly rolled away, like fog parting at the command of the brilliant sun. 

_ That’s it, Harry.  _

Harry’s eyes fluttered closed for a second, swept away by a current of ecstasy that spiked up the center of his back, and then, they opened—

Only to find a head of dark hair between his thighs. Smooth and silky hair that fell in waves, that fell and fell endlessly until it became one with the void of nothing in this chasm.

Harry’s breath caught when those long, lustrous strands parted, and the most breathtaking man he’d ever seen revealed itself. The man’s eyes were closed, draped with long and dark lashes. 

Who...was this man? 

He looked familiar. Like a long lost friend he had spent decades without seeing. But how was such a thing possible? He didn’t know many people. All the faces blurred into one another—the only faces that ever mattered were those of his friends, of his classmates back at Hogwarts—

Harry stopped thinking, mouth suddenly dry when the strange man’s eyes opened to reveal bright, red eyes. They speared through him, unmade him with just one probing look.

“W-who?” Harry tried to say, but all words escaped him. Drowned out by the sound of blood rushing up to his ears at the realization that this beautiful stranger was lying between his legs, that the heat wrapped around his cock was a  _ mouth _ . His face was burning so much he feared that he’d incinerate into ash.

A low laugh echoed within his head, husky and low. Then, the man’s lips parted and engulfed him, swallowing him to the hilt. 

Sweet Godric.

Harry cried out, hips twitching but unable to move, as that mouth forced his cock as deeply as that throat allowed, a tongue sliding along the underside from the tip to the base. 

_ Doesn’t this feel familiar, Harry? _

The girl spoke into his ear, gentle and kind. The only evidence that her teeth had ever been at his neck, the wetness running down his collarbone and the pulsing ache by his neck. 

_ Don’t you remember us, Harry?  _

The girl laid soft and gentle kisses along his shoulders between each word. Swept away by the gentleness, by the twin sensation of her mouth on his neck and the man’s tongue on his prick. Unable to look away, to turn away from those red eyes gazing intently into his eyes.

_ Don’t you recall the little poem I wrote for you…? The words he and I wrote together to show you just how  _ **_divine_ ** _ you are? _

Emotions Harry could not begin to understand swam within the man’s gaze. Hunger and lust, anger and joy, pleasure and fear... They swirled through the sea of maroon and burgundy like it was perfectly natural to feel so much at once. Somehow perfectly natural for the man to express those tumultuous emotions with Harry’s flesh between his lips, drinking up his low moans and essence with each suck.

_ Don’t you recognize us? Recognize  _ this?

Something brushed along the cleft of his arse. A finger, perhaps, Harry couldn’t be sure at that moment. Not when the man chose that instant to pull back, only a thin line of saliva separating their skin, to swallow him back in, setting a brutal pace that Harry had no hope of keeping up with.

In and out. The head of his cock bumped against the stranger’s throat, and Harry was certain he’d go  _ mad _ . The wet tightness slicked him up, teased at the head of his cock with an expertise Harry was certain was  _ learned _ . It was too precise, too  _ good _ , for it to be natural. 

_ Harry... _

Pleasure cut through him, spread out from the center of his navel, following the fine network of nerves wrapped around his bones until even his fingers tingled.

_ My Harry... _

A tongue teased at the tip of his cock with each wet slide, the man’s tongue easily sliding beneath Harry’s foreskin to lap at his pre-cum. With each skilled glide of that tongue, his skin came alive—like fire and oil.

_ Our Harry... _

Harry couldn’t look away. He was spellbound, watching the way the man’s drool dribbled down from the corner of the man’s mouth. Each slurp and wet sound like stone tumbling down a silent corridor. It rang in his ears.

Like a whisper in the dark, calling and calling out to him with promises of something  _ more _ , of something rich and decadent in the back of his mouth. It unraveled him slowly, the sound and the slight graze of the man’s teeth, and  _ Godric _ —

Harry’s toes curled, white flashing behind the back of his eyes, overcome by this current, dragging something hidden in the crevices of his mind. A memory, a something that tasted like a word, or maybe, a  _ name _ —

_ Your body remembers us… _

Harry’s brows furrowed when that finger along the cleft of his arse slid lower and lower. It poked at his coccyx, drawing an irrepressible shiver, only to delve lower still until—

Harry jerked, thoughts thoroughly shaken because she could not be attempting what he  _ thought  _ she was attempting. It felt entirely too strange.

“W-wait, what are you doing?”

_ Say our names and I might tell you what I’ll do. _

Harry’s insides clenched, uncertain. Should he say anything? What if saying something was precisely what she wanted him to do? What if she didn’t keep her word? She could be lying for all he knew.

“I don’t know your names,” Harry said instead, hoping that the finger would cease its burning path along his flesh. He’d never been more aware of that place than he was in that moment. This was unheard of, for someone to touch his arse like this...

Harry jumped, heart suddenly in his throat.

The girl did not stop, but instead slid her finger against his opening, teasing along the puckered skin gently. 

“Wait—!”

Harry threw his head back, a loud gasp fell from his lips when the man swallowed him deeper, and his hands slid up Harry’s bare legs— _ had he been entirely nude the entire time?— _ to grasp his hips, stilling all movement. It was like Harry had been caught in the maw of a snake, helpless to the heat in the man’s gaze and the soft kisses the girl rained upon Harry’s neck.

_ Liar. _

The girl hissed against his ear, her hot breath fanning against the swollen mass on the side of his neck. Right where she’d driven her teeth nearly into bone, the threat of it very real even as Harry struggled against the tight heat of that stranger’s mouth and the girl’s exploring fingers.

_ Don’t lie to us. You know our names...you were the only  _ one  _ that dared speak his when no other would…you were the only one that mourned mine when no other would... _

Harry gasped when the man ’s teeth brushed along the head of his prick, nipping at the skin. It hurt, but it wasn’t entirely painful. It was a strange kind of sting, vastly different from the sensation of the girl’s predatory mouth on his throat. 

It scared him, but thrilled at the same time. The ease with which the man undid him, the way his own toes curled, and fingers clenched into useless fists at his sides. He  _ shouldn’t  _ be this caught in this precarious edge. He  _ shouldn’t  _ be as enthralled as he was in that moment. 

But he was.

Against his better judgment, against all  _ sense _ , he was trapped between two different kinds of predators. One that hunted through pleasure and the other through pain. 

_ Say it. _

The girl was chanting the words, her finger pushing harder against his opening until she breached him with the tip of her finger.

Harry’s teeth vibrated from the intensity, eyes rolling to the back of his head when the man stuffed all of Harry’s prick deep into his throat and  _ hummed _ . It was... _ wonderful. _ The heat, the moisture, the vision of the man’s mouth hollowing out to take more of his prick into his mouth, and back. 

“O-oh god,” Harry moaned, a pressure building low in his belly from the onslaught of pleasure. A vision flashed within his mind.

_ A face with deep black eyes, a girl with pale skin and blood red hair. Water dripped down her cheeks, melting into stringy hair that glowed an eerie red. There was a boy, tall and thin looming above her, fingers caressing white skin. The boy’s mouth was moving, but Harry could not hear the words, he could only  _ see. 

Then, there was laughter. Endless, dizzying laughter that rung inside his head, their voices like the singing of children in a choir. Holy and united. Warm, even when a vision of the girl’s blue-tinged face flashed behind his eyelids, her bare knees on the ground, in reverence. Harry could not see who she knelt for. It was a nebulous shadow, thicker than the dark strands of the man’s long, dark hair…

But he didn’t need to. He didn’t need to see his face because reflected in her eyes, swimming through her unshed tears was the same face lying between his thighs. A riddle— 

Color exploded behind his eyes, his mouth parting open into a loud cry when the girl suddenly thrust her finger entirely inside his arse and  _ curled,  _ and he exploded inside the stranger’s— _ no, Tom’s— _ mouth.

Spine arching, Harry tossed his head back, unable to control the shocks rocking through him.  _ God _ , Harry thought. It was too much. The realization was almost as terrifying as the ecstasy, as the dawning reality that the man dragging him over the precipice was no one other than  _ Tom Riddle. _

_ Be a good boy, Harry, and say my name,  _ the girl whispered into his head. 

A sob left his throat instead. Tears ran from the corners of his eyes, vision darkening at the corners of his eyes when a myriad of memories unraveled within his mind. They flickered endlessly, unrelenting.

_ The dying screams of victims echoed within his brain. The stench of ash and corpses. Nausea curled in his stomach, bile rushing up his throat to meet the wet grass beneath him. Everyone was dead, and those that weren’t, would be soon enough. There was laughter all around him, dark shadows and pale skin. Serpents coiled around milky flesh, and warm brown eyes found his in the chaos, pale lips parting in surprise before curling into a devious smile... _

“Harry…”

The miasma receded. The darkened corners melted into a bedroom draped with fine silks and emerald tapestries lined against the wall. Paintings revealed themselves, oozing with monochromatics, nearly blinding with how they contrasted with the deep green walls and the black sheets enshrouding him

_ Where…? _

“Good. You’re awake.”

The dream world vanished like smoke, but the nightmare, Harry realized, still remained. Nothing could ever right the wrongs, could undo and erase the horror that was reality.

For Riddle still rested between his legs, kneeling right over the edge of the massive bed. A position that one might mistake as submissive, or maybe even compliant, but it was anything but. Harry  _ knew  _ better than to make that mistake. The man’s hand clung to his thigh, knuckles white with how tightly he held on to the bare skin. It was evidence enough of the power Riddle had over him.

_ Had over the world... _

But Harry didn’t have time to take everything in, for in that moment, warm and soft arms wrapped around his middle, a pair of what felt like cold lips pressing against his neck. Harry shuddered when the girl purred, thin strands of red hair pooling over the side of his throat.

“Ginny..”

Tears pricked his eyes, pain twisting his innards at the mention of her name, at the horrific reality that he had woken up not only to his greatest enemy between his thighs, but to  _ Ginny.  _ Innocent and sweet Ginny who had disappeared into the dark depths of the castle, never to be found again.

“See you do know us…” She murmured, the soft tenor of her voice unlike the childlike cadence of her youth. “I knew you would remember—”

This was all wrong. All of it. Ginny had  _ disappeared. _ Everyone believed she had died. 

Why was she here? Why was she there with Riddle?

_ Oh Godric. _

“Harry...” Ginny murmured into his neck at the same time that Tom leaned closer, his hot breath curling around his bare skin. 

_ Bare skin... _

Harry tried to leap away, to struggle and bat those arms away. To get up and simply fly his way out of this mess, but he was paralyzed. He was naked and  _ paralyzed.  _ Harry wanted to scream with frustration, to do something, but the amusement dancing within Riddle’s eyes stopped him of doing exactly that.

He wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. 

“Oh,  _ Harry... _ ”

Harry did not answer, eyes narrowing into thin slits when Tom’s lips quirked into a devious smile and his hand crept up his leg to finger the inside of his thigh. 

Everything within him tightened, the desperate need to bolt so strong that Harry was nauseous with it. Riddle’s touch burned, made more real by the fact that he was naked as the day he was born. Harry had never felt more exposed, ashamed, though he would never  _ dare  _ admit to this fact. They’d messed with his head...they’d invaded his dreams and killed everyone that he loved.

His friends, those that he’d called  _ family _ , were gone because of Riddle. Rage burned bitterly in the back of his throat, his mouth curling into a snarl when Riddle’s smile deepened and Ginny’s hold around his waist tightened.

“We’re so glad you’re finally awake—” Ginny purred into his neck, her lips trailing over his throat. Harry wanted to be ill, recalling in that moment that this was Ron’s sister, that she, with the same hands pressed against his skin, had  _ killed  _ Ron.

This wasn’t Ginny, the girl that had vanished only to reemerge years later during the final battle of Hogwarts. The girl he had known was gone, and all that remained was cruel woman that lived only for Lord Voldemort. It didn’t matter whose lives were sacrificed to the cause, who she had to kill to satisfy her lord.

Harry did not speak. He did not  _ dare _ . He’d say something he’d regret, spout something monstrous he’d never be able to take back, and he needed to  _ think _ . There would be no way out of this if he let them have their way.  __

“—aren’t we, My Lord?” Ginny said, and Harry let out a sharp breath when Tom’s mouth stopped short of his prick, Harry’s wrinkled flesh lying limp on his leg. Tom’s nose skimmed over Harry’s thigh, but Harry did not react. Didn’t even flinch when Tom’s fingers curled around his thighs, Harry’s bile burning in the back of his throat like fire lying dormant in the belly of a dragon.

Ginny’s hold on his waist loosened, but Harry did not feel relieved, not when her fingers crawled up his chest, scratching against his ribcage. Her fingers touched him softly, reverently. Unlike the violence of her teeth in the dream, unlike the cruelty of her voice hissing for him to  _ remember _ . 

“You’re shaking, Harry. Are you cold, I’ll keep you warm.”

It was strange how someone so cruel could be kind...how those same hands could touch him after they’d held onto a wand and slit her brother’s throat.

_ Ginny.  _

Harry knew her name, heard it echo within his mind like glass shattering in an empty bedroom. It was like a holy prayer, a call for mercy and forgiveness. The last thing Ron said before he’d died, the sound enough to make Harry’s insides shrivel.

Ron had sounded so relieved, how could either of them have known she would turn her back on him? There was no  _ mercy  _ left in her. No Ginevra Weasley to find within the wrinkles of her brain. 

Her name was pure violence. Fire and brimstone. The red in the iris of Tom Riddle’s eyes, the cruel slant of his mouth and the harsh grip of Riddle’s hands around his thighs. She was unrecognizable.

“ _ Shhh,  _ it’s okay. I’m here now. We’ll take such good care of you, Harry. You don’t have to suffer anymore.”

It was his  _ punishment  _ for failing her, for killing her, even if indirectly. If he’d found the Chamber of Secrets on time, if he’d reached her before she disappeared into the shadows, then perhaps she wouldn’t be here. 

Maybe, she wouldn’t have killed  _ Ron. _

Tom’s breath fanned against Harry’s groin, and Harry clenched his jaw, eyes glaring into the amused glint in Riddle’s eyes. 

_ Don’t let him get to you, don’t let him get to yo— _

“You’re  _ ours  _ now _ — _ ” she murmured into his ear, Tom’s mouth parting open to mouth the very same words. Ginny’s face was reflected behind Riddle’s eyes, her lips curling into a twisted smile.

Harry’s blood went cold.

_ “—My little horcrux.” _


End file.
